


to prevent flight

by Zekkass



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: During Canon, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Wingfic, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-28
Updated: 2013-12-28
Packaged: 2018-01-06 11:08:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1106095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zekkass/pseuds/Zekkass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Captain," Stark greets.</p><p>"Mr. Stark," Steve returns, his mind's eye still filled with the impression of a red-and-gold angel streaking from the sky, his fingers itching for a pencil.</p>
            </blockquote>





	to prevent flight

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a fic-tac-toe challenge with legete; the prompt was 'wings', so I went with wingfic. It's a universe where everyone has wings! Everyone, even the Hulk.
> 
> Un-betaed, written pretty quickly, I do hope it's a fun read.

Tony's injured heart is not what draws the attention now, no. The arc reactor in his chest is not his defining feature, nor is the Iron Man armor itself.

What is - what draws the eye - is the intricate lattice-work of metal over his wings. The red and gold that covers his feathers and traces the joints and hooks into the Iron Man armor.

\--

Steve was born with oversized white-and-grey-blue wings. They never fit his too-small body, and then when the serum gave him a body they did fit, they still proved to be a liability - in a warzone you want soldiers with small wings, easy to strap down and keep from becoming another vulnerable weakspot.

In the war Steve did the same thing after covering them in paint or mud, to better camouflage their bright colors.

In the future he isn't given the opportunity to do the same - straps were omitted from his redesigned uniform, and he is forced to fight with only his training and experience keeping his wings out of the way. Fortunately it's enough.

Loki never gets a handhold on them when they fight.

\--

Steve watches Stark streak down from the sky in a blaze of light and sound, unfamiliar music sweeping over him as Loki is blasted back. He comes to his feet slowly, watching the armor extend weapons in an open threat. He catches his breath as Stark's wings fold - metal whirring - behind his back.

Loki surrenders.

"Captain," Stark greets.

"Mr. Stark," Steve returns, his mind's eye still filled with the impression of a red-and-gold angel streaking from the sky, his fingers itching for a pencil.

\--

Steve's uncomfortable in the Helicarrier, sitting in a plane he barely understands, unsure how best he can help - they don't need his talents now, not to find the cube.

He's to sit pretty until there's action. Not the first time he's done this.

So he's uncomfortable, and then Tony Stark walks in, and that if anything just makes it worse. Steve's seen pictures, of course, but it's different in the flesh.

Tony Stark's wings, after all, have been _pinioned_.

The reddish-brown feathers look naked without the metal augmenting them. Naked and small, and Stark's lost a few inches without the armor, but his presence fills up the room, the stream of conversation that soars over Steve's head - he does not understand the advanced sciences, not without a better education.

It's fortunate that Banner understands.

Steve just feels useless.

\--

He leaves the bridge, follows the scientists. It gets him away from roomfuls of busy people who know exactly what they're supposed to be doing, who have a purpose.

At the least he can make certain that Stark hasn't dragged Banner off on some tangent. They're professionals both, he's sure of it, but from his initial impressions of Stark - he wants to be sure.

His fears are confirmed when he walks in to find Stark poking one of the doctor's wings.

"Ow," Banner says, twisting to look at Stark, and Steve doesn't miss that his wings are for once held less tightly to his back. It doesn't last, and the dusty brown things fold closer to his back, looking painful.

It is painful, Steve knows. When he was younger, smaller, he used to hold his wings like that to hide them. They'd cramp, but they'd stay put.

Stark, to Steve's continuing discomfort, is animated when he talks. His wings are expressive as his hands and his face, but all it does is shove the fact that he has been _crippled_ in Steve's face. It's polite not to mention them. It's difficult not to stare.

He is certain Stark is keenly aware of this, and likely using it against him.

So he pointedly keeps his long white wings folded up against his back and refuses to get into posturing, keeping his body language purely mammal.

It still ends in frustration - 

"Just find the cube."

\- and doubt.

\--

HYDRA weapons are a hop, a skip, and a jump away.

\--

Stark's wings wind up folded tight behind his back when they fight. Steve realizes it too late, that his verbal jab struck too deep. Realizes too late that he's lost control, that he's not just bullying Stark, he's spread his wings and is using every inch of them to try to intimidate the man.

They aren't just big wings - they're whole, _healthy_. It's unfair of him.

It's _cruel_ of him.

There isn't time to feel shame then. Stark can give as good as he gets, and then the whole floor goes out from under them.

\--

When Doctor Banner loses control, he curls over, hunched on the ground, _contents under pressure_. Green creeps up his neck, his clothing splits, his feathers go from a dusty, damaged brown to a vibrant green. Bones crack as they triple in size, and the Helicarrier shakes as the Hulk roars.

Natasha Romanoff takes the only sane option left to her and runs for her life.

\--

Later: they don't stop for a quinjet, not when they can all fly faster than one machine. Stark flies ahead, his wingbeats faster and stronger than theirs, augmented by metal.

Steve wonders as he flies about what kind of man it takes to compensate for his condition by building a machine like that.

Natasha is a silent flier to his left, her slim black wings tirelessly beating away. Steve wonders if she dyes them to get that black, but it's rude to ask.

And Barton - he will trust Natasha's word that this purple-winged archer is trustworthy.

\--

Even with his perfect memory, there are images that will always stand out to Steve from the Battle of New York - the image of the Hulk beating his wings furiously as he forces one of the leviathans up out of its path. The image of Thor with his odd draconic wings summoning down lightning from the skyscrapers, bottle-necking that portal.

Ordinary civilians with less and more fantastic wing patterns fleeing for their lives. Chitauri filling the streets, their numbers seemingly endless.

One image stands out among the rest: Tony falling from the sky, being caught, deposited on the ground. Steve can see where his wings are broken, and he can see again that the metal is acting as a brace. He wonders - not outloud - if Tony had been flying on broken wings before he went up into that portal.

But what catches his attention this time, more than the wings, more than the reactor-heart - is the look on Tony's face when he comes back to life.


End file.
